Fir Lodge

by Sean McMahon

  ‘Here boy! Sit!’ said Hal, accidentally brushing through past-Kara’s arm, causing her to shiver.

  Jerry stopped, squatted, and then followed past-Hal’s instruction to hurry up.

  ‘I think we need to get ahead of ourselves and call him to us,’ said Kara, ‘this is just confusing the poor little guy, being so close to past-us,’ she added, as she pulled her arm inwards, realising she had connected with past-Hal’s arm, causing him to pull up the zip on his boiler suit to keep out the cold.

  ‘Yeah, agreed,’ said Hal, as he gave up and stopped walking, huffing in frustration. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

  The Restarters ran to Kevin’s lodge, edging their way through the open front door, as their killer was exiting the basement, seemingly looking for something in the kitchen. Hal and Kara linked arms, and Hal threw a punch in his direction, passing straight through him, his punch connecting with the wooden wall instead. It caused a slight noise, and The Big Bad looked over his shoulder, drawn by the connection Hal had made with the wall. Ever-so-slightly shaking his head, as if he were imagining things, he continued fishing around in the kitchen drawer.

  It was then that the man’s ears twitched, reacting to the sounds of talking coming from outside. In a single stride, he made his way to the light switch, killed the lights to the living room, and hid by the wooden beam next to the basement door.

  As Hal’s past-self entered the cabin, and the knife entered his chest, Hal unlinked his arm from Kara’s and broke away from her, striding towards his murderer with an unexpected desperation, and began lashing out wildly.

  Maybe it was his proximity to his past self, but Hal suddenly felt a burning in his throat, his eyes filling involuntarily with partially formed tears, unwilling to accept the futility of his actions.

  ‘Don’t you touch her!’ screamed Hal, as the head of Kara’s past-self once more collided with the kitchen unit, his words doing less than nothing to drown out the chaos unfolding around them.

  Realising that nothing they did would allow them to interact with their assailant, they closed their eyes and covered their ears, as the final moments of their murder played out yet again.

  *

  It was now their sixtieth restart and, once again, they took up their positions on their bench.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Kara. ‘No morning cigarette?’

  Hal scoffed. ‘They’re basically air anyway. I’m quitting.’

  ‘Finally! At least something good might come out of this.’

  ‘Maybe once we get back,’ Hal added, immediately caving, and lighting a cigarette.

  ‘Uh huh,’ said Kara, now knowing how Hal must have felt, every time she said she was never drinking again. ‘So, erm…you were pretty wild back there, trying to take out The Big Bad with a haymaker.’

  ‘Sorry, it just hit me harder than usual, seeing us like that,’ said Hal with a grimace. ‘But that does bring us to one hell of an issue. How are we meant to take that guy down? Everything hinges on that. All of our planning will count for shit if we can’t find a way around it.’

  ‘I know,’ said Kara, nodding gravely. ‘But we’re closer than we’ve ever been,’ she lied.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Hal. ‘We were so close to our past-selves, why couldn’t we do anything? Maybe we just needed more of a charge?’

  ‘I don’t think that would’ve made a difference,’ said Kara sadly. ‘I think it was more a case of our past-selves…well, not being in any condition for us to draw energy from…’ Kara decided not to add “because they were dead” to her sentence, but she could tell Hal understood where she was coming from. ‘Happy 60th by the way!’ she said brightly, in a further attempt at lifting the mood. ‘I got you something.’

  ‘Oh god, has it really been sixty restarts already?’ said Hal, realising he had given up on counting a long time ago. ‘Wait, you got me something? How? What? When?!’

  ‘Yup, I’ve been dabbling in our down-time.’

  ‘You’ve been dabbing in your down time?’ said Hal, a forced look of horrified distaste on his face.

  ‘Dabbling,’ said Kara, knowing he was having her on.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Hal, curious as to how she was able to access her Amazon account in this place, let alone arrange for something to be delivered.

  ‘You’ll have to just wait and see.’

  *

  That evening, Kara led Hal to the communal dining area as their friends were digging into some dinner. A rock song was playing from the wireless speaker, as Kara gestured for him to come and stand next to her.

  Linking arms with him, he was stunned by the surge of energy, what with their past-selves being less than a metre away. She shot him a wink, raising an extended finger above the phone on the counter, which was feeding the music to the nearby speaker. Slowly, she lowered her finger onto the “skip” button, and a small fizzle of blue energy connected her finger to the device. Glenn Miller’s “In the mood” erupted from the speaker, overriding the previous song.

  ‘Ta-daaa!’ she said, shaking her hands jazz-hand style, and extending her arms in celebration.

  Hal’s jaw hit the floor. ‘That’s…incredible!’

  ‘That’s not all. Remember the conversation from Friday night?’ said Kara excitedly, jolting her head to indicate he should focus on their friends around the dining table. Conversations began to shift, the mood of the song sending ripples through time, and causing the group to go off on random tangents. Jon and Hal’s past-selves began singing the song in an obnoxious manner. Everything was the same, and yet somehow…different.

  ‘The Flutterby Effect,’ Hal chuckled, as he saw what she meant. ‘You’re a genius Kar’!’

  Kara shrugged as if it was nothing, trying to hide the fact that his words had made her blush.

  ‘I don’t know what effect this will have in the bigger scheme of things,’ said Kara, ‘but at least we can listen to some different music for a change, right? I know it’s not much, but–’

  ‘Kara. Shut up. It’s perfect, thank you!’ said Hal, hugging her for a split second, then releasing her, as both of them were repelled from each other.

  ‘You know,’ he continued, ‘I usually find this sort of music a bit twee for my taste, but I’m kind of glad Jon brought some of this RAF stuff along with him, it’s pretty upbeat.’

  ‘Me too, actually,’ said Kara.

  And so they spent the rest of their evening, playing around with Kara’s discovery, watching the miniscule impact and differences their meddling had on their friends.

  *

  Before Jerry could interact with the group that Saturday afternoon, Hal and Kara blocked his path. By splitting up, they had managed to trick him to run between them, allowing Kevin to catch up with him sooner, resulting in Kevin not interacting with the group at the barbecue, as he had done countless times before.

  With no point of reference, it was their hope that their past-selves wouldn’t think to take Jerry home when he came back that evening. However, they soon realised that even a seemingly-huge alteration to their personal timelines was no match for the omnipresent malevolence and tenacity of the surging rivers of time.

  Jerry showed up as he always did that evening, but Hal and Kara were waiting at the top of the drive. They managed to secure his attention once again, and began walking him around the outskirts of Fir Lodge.

  ‘This is actually working!’ said Kara.

  ‘Yeah! Although we should probably wrap it up,’ said Hal. ‘If we carry on, we might actually save ourselves. but Kevin still needs us. Not to mention, we need to figure out what to do about the big guy.’

  Reluctantly, they guided Jerry back to the entrance of their lodge. Hal sent Kara off to the boundary line to trigger the restart, whilst he remained at Fir Lodge to determine the outcome of their impromptu dog-walking. Hal watched, as past-Kara checked Jerry’s name tag, having not done so before in this version of the timeline, and sought the assistance of someone to help her take him back. Due to
the knock-on effect of the timing, Hal’s past-self was not on hand to assist, and Daisy had offered to assist her instead.

  ‘Crap!’ said Hal.

  They’d messed up in a huge way, inadvertently putting Daisy in the firing line. He had no idea how close Kara was to the restart point, and all he could do was follow them to Kevin’s lodge.

  Several minutes later, they were getting dangerously close.

  ‘Come on Kara, come on…what’s taking you so long?’ Hal said to himself.

  They were far too close now. Less than a minute away, and Hal began to panic. With his past-self so far away, he could barely keep Jerry’s attention, trying to slow them down in an attempt to give his friends the precious seconds they needed.

  As Kara’s past-self and Daisy approached the driveway of Kevin’s home, Hal was forced to run the numbers on what impact it would have if Daisy died instead of him. Would he be free of the restarts? Would Kara keep her memory of everything they had been through? Or would she too be back to square one, with no prior knowledge? Would Daisy restart with her? Or be stranded in a separate hell, occupying a timeline all of her own?

  It was then that he heard it; The approaching sound of rushing air, the whiteness thickening around him. But Daisy was already crossing the threshold…

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Daisy Chain

  61st Restart – Friday Afternoon, 1:24pm

  Kara sat there, staring across the garden, until eventually she turned her attention to Daisy, who was laying on the grass in front of her. She had no idea what approach she would use to explain everything to her. There was no easy way to tell someone they had been severed from time, and discarded into an alternate dimension, like a copy of an e-mail, deleted from the recycling bin of the universe, forever unable to be retrieved.

  She looked back behind her at Hal, alive and well, and blissfully unaware of what the future had planned for him, as a voice broke the silence, pulling her back from the nightmare scenario she kept replaying over in her mind, as she searched for the answers that remained eternally out of reach.

  ‘There’s no way you could have known that would happen Kara, stop beating yourself up. You don’t have to deal with this alone.’

  She remained silent, not willing to forgive herself for what she had done.

  ‘There’s no way either of us could have known,’ added Hal.

  ‘We nearly killed her, Hal. We nearly sentenced her to a lifetime here. All because we were playing with forces we should have left well alone,’ said Kara, once again tormenting herself over how close they had left it to the designated restart time. It was idiotic, and they should have known better.

  ‘I know,’ he whispered, as he took another drag on his cigarette. ‘We’ll do better next time. We’ll be more care–’

  ‘No,’ said Kara, cutting him off. ‘We became complacent. Maybe we just need to accept that this is what is meant to happen. We haven’t even entertained the possibility that we were meant to die!’

  Maybe the reason they couldn’t change anything was because that, if they did, if they truly succeeded, there would have to be a price…a life for a life.

  ‘I’m not prepared to make a deal with the devil to get our lives back, are you?’ said Kara, with an intensity that caused her whole body to shake.

  ‘Of course not!’ said Hal, deeply hurt by the accusation.

  Their mutual silence allowed the severity of their mistake to wash over them, until Kara finally broke the deafening quietness.

  ‘Do you think they’re trapped here?’ she asked, pointing towards their friends. ‘Locked in time, destined to repeat themselves, over and over again?’

  Hal had given this some thought, and whilst the logical probability did little to ease his mind, he needed to bring Kara back from this precipice of self-doubt.

  ‘No…’ he said finally. ‘I think Sunday rolls around, they realise we’re missing…they look for us. They call the police. But ultimately, I think they go home. Live long lives, and learn to live without us.’

  ‘That’s…as heart-breaking as it is reassuring,’ said Kara. ‘I don’t want them to be trapped here like we are.’

  ‘I know, right. I just can’t imagine this…bubble, or restart, or whatever you want to call it, holding everyone inside it indefinitely,’ said Hal.

  ‘Maybe that’s what the fog is all about,’ proposed Kara. ‘When it finally consumes everything, taking us with it, maybe it ends. It’ll all be over.’

  ‘If that’s true,’ said Hal, ‘what do you think will happen to us when that time finally comes? When our time literally runs out?’

  And they thought about that for the rest of the restart, too scared to meddle with the past, afraid to roll the dice at the expense of their friend’s safety.

  One thing was certain. They were adamant that never again would they play with the lives of others so flippantly. If they were going to make any changes at all, they would do it carefully, deliberately and calculate the end results, ensuring they would take into account even the smallest, seemingly insignificant, of details.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  For Pete’s Sake

  98th Restart – Saturday Evening, 8:45pm

  They hit the ground running on their ninety-eighth restart. Their nearly-fatal mistake with Daisy had changed the way they approached almost everything. They became experts of their own past, paying attention to even the most seemingly-meaningless of conversations, learning where everyone was at all times, as if studying an artificially-intelligent simulation, looking for weak spots in the code.

  One thing they couldn’t help but notice was the static fog, which was somehow even more menacing than ever. They thought it had been bad before, but there were even more insidious side-effects to their exposure to it.

  At around their seventy-fifth restart, they noticed that it had become difficult for them to concentrate. At first, they had put it down to trial and error, and had assumed that, given the amount of information they were attempting to memorise, it was to be expected that they would become forgetful over certain facts and timings. It soon became clear, however, that they were finding it harder to focus during certain restarts. Their minds would wander, replaying memories prior to when the time-jumps had started, daydreaming about a life post-restart, and getting lost in the illusion.

  They had discovered that one constant could keep them grounded though, and that was music. Whilst the voices of their friends became increasingly muffled and muted, music tore through the fog like a blade. They found that they could keep themselves anchored to the task at hand, so long as they concentrated on a track that was playing. They had also learned that sticking together helped negate the effects, and they relied on each other to correct false-memories when they presented themselves.

  It started off small; they would struggle to find the words they needed to finish their sentences. But as the side-effects took a stronger hold on them, the severity of their plight became increasingly more distressing. During one restart in particular, Hal had forgotten some of the surnames of their friends, followed by their ages. But as long as there was music, their plan always came flooding back to them. Charging themselves also helped, it forced the mist to retreat, and gave them a clarity of thought they desperately needed when making important decisions.

  It was during one of their more charged moments that they remembered a crucial encounter, that seemed more like a bad dream than an actual memory; the incident with Peter, in Robert’s room. They had planned, and then unwillingly forgotten, to follow up on this issue multiple times now. It was time to rectify that once and for all.

  They followed Peter for the entirety of the restart, but spotted nothing that would indicate anything was leading up to a temporal anomaly of any kind. Eventually, the restart had led them to Robert’s bedroom, as Peter arrived to borrow a phone charger. Peter slumped against the wall, and his eyes began to ripple with a familiar blue energy.

  ‘So erm…what’s the play h
ere?’ asked Hal, feeling embarrassingly ill-equipped to deal with the situation they were presented with.

  Kara shrugged. ‘He’s clearly channelling the same energy that we’re bound to. He’s connected to this place somehow.’

  ‘I mean, shall we just link arms and dive right in there, or...?’ suggested Hal, unable to provide a suitable alternative. Kara didn’t have any better ideas either, so they linked their arms, continuing to deliberate, as a familiar energy surged through them, their proximity to past-Hal giving them a notable spike in potency.

  ‘Allons-y,’ said Hal, as he placed his right hand on Peter’s temple, as if he was performing some kind of Vulcan mind-meld. Kara mimicked the action, placing her left hand on Peter’s right temple.

  Their stomachs lurched in unison, as the colour from their surroundings was sucked away. Everything was present and correct, only painted in an immaculate white. They were met by the terrifying sight of two, pitch-black silhouettes, which were connected to Peter and standing directly next to them. One of the outlines was pressed against Peter’s body, seemingly holding him in place, the other had their hands plunged directly into Peter’s brain.

  The entities were made up entirely of a swirling darkness, and were in complete contrast to the surrounding whiteness, as ripples of blue energy exploded from their hands, just as it did from Hal and Kara’s. Suddenly, the taller of the two dark figures turned its head and looked directly at the Restarters.

  Straightening up, the figure towering over them both, the featureless face began leaning in towards Hal, clearly disturbed by their presence and eager to get a better look at the intruders.

  That was quite enough for Hal, who promptly pulled away from Peter, gasping for breath, and utterly spooked by the horror of what he had witnessed.

  ‘What the actual fuck was that?’ said Hal. ‘Did you see that?! Those things? Was that us?’